


Just a Machine?

by Canadiantardis



Series: Whumptober 2020 [12]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Familial Moxiety - Freeform, Gen, He just refuses to say he does, Hospitals, Kinda? It sorta turned into an au, Logic | Logan Sanders Has Feelings, Lots of Crying, Mugging, One Shot, Robot Logic | Logan Sanders, Sobbing, Starts off fluffy then its just ANGST, detroit: become human au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadiantardis/pseuds/Canadiantardis
Summary: I have no emotions. I have no need for emotions. I do not do emotions.The words had become a mantra in Logan’s wiring. He was a robot, an android. He had no need for emotions, regardless of how human-presenting he may appear. He was created to perform specific tasks, not to do something as illogical as express an emotion he cannot really feel, or to spend time worrying about those emotions of others.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Dot/Larry (Cartoon Therapy), Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Whumptober 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920886
Comments: 22
Kudos: 39





	Just a Machine?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 12: Broken down  
> When I say I almost cried writing the second-half of this fic, I am not kidding. Enjoy~

_I have no emotions. I have no need for emotions. I do not do emotions._

The words had become a mantra in Logan’s wiring. He was a robot, an android. He had no need for emotions, regardless of how human-presenting he may appear. He was created to perform specific tasks, not to do something as illogical as express an emotion he cannot really feel, or to spend time worrying about those emotions of others.

Since his creation, Logan couldn’t understand how any android would want to be any more human and have the ridiculous notion as to long for natural emotions or to have the ability to cry. It made no sense. They were created with a specific purpose. If they needed to cry, they would have been built with that installed. Androids were not all built with the bug of wanting emotions, and that was what it was, a bug. A virus in the wiring that corrupted robots into believing they were more than what they really were.

“But don’t you want anything? Don’t you desire things?” Patton, his current owner, asked one evening after they finished creating supper for Patton and his young son. He never allowed Logan to make the meals alone, even though they have debated over the fact Logan was programmed to make excellent meals with over two hundred recipes in his memory banks. Patton would always counter that he should never leave everything up to the androids or else he’d be a poor example to his son.

“I do not desire. That is an emotion, and I do not have them programmed into my system,” Logan responded evenly, adjusting his uniform’s tie.

“Surely that’s not true,” Patton scrunched his face into a frown, walking the couple steps to the entrance of the living room where Virgil played with lego blocks to let him know that supper was ready. The quick pitter-patter of a seven-year-old’s feet was the response as Virgil scurried over to the dining table. “C’mon, I know there must be something you desire. Isn’t there some fact that the amount of energy you use to compute the same as an organic human brain? Didn’t you give me that fact?”

“That is likely,” Logan nodded, but kept his face even as always. “However, there is still the fact I had not been programmed with human emotions like an organic brain had been."

“But you could!” Patton insisted, helping Virgil serve himself the spaghetti before he sat down at his own seat. “You’re not…! It’s not impossible for android’s to have emotions, to desire.”

“It is not impossible, but I have not had it programmed,” Logan repeated.

Patton sighed, frowning as he served himself a large helping of spaghetti. Virgil was already awkwardly twirling his fork to get as many noodles on it as he could. The humans had a discussion about what Virgil learned in school, and Patton spoke about his better customers - all of whom, Logan noted, were android, compared to the yelling, angry humans Patton would vent to Logan about but never mentioned to his son - that came into the flower shop.

As supper wound down, however, Virgil put his fork down and gave his full attention to Logan, who looked at him.

“You like teaching, Mr. Logan,” he said to him, and Logan had to take a moment to realize he was continuing the debate his father had started. Patton looked surprised as well. “I know you like teaching. You like when someone listens to all the really big facts you know.” He pointed an accusatory finger at the android. “You smiled when I remembered that constellation about the fishes!”

Patton grinned wide as he looked between the two, and Logan shook his head, tilting his head a fraction like a new visual angle would help him understand what the little human was saying.

“I have never smiled.”

“Yes you have! You get really happy when I do well on my writing homework. You just don’t like showing it,” Virgil said, with all the conviction of a child could have.

“So you like teaching?” Patton asked, the grin not leaving his face. “You ever thought of being a teacher, Logan?”

“I do not have likes,” Logan denounced. “I have no emotions, I cannot like, nor can I dislike.”

Patton sighed, looking sad again and shook his head. “I don’t… Okay. You believe what you want, Logan.”

“It is not a belief, it is fact.” He responded, tilting his head another fraction.

Patton muttered something too quiet for even Logan’s robotic auditory processes to pick up, and he soon picked Virgil up to put him to bed.

Logan stayed by the dining table, processing the conversation as best he could.

* * *

“Virgil! Virgil, tell Logan what you got on your very first spelling test,” Patton was as excited as his son, both humans bouncing in front of Logan, who had to pause his folding work. He had learned working on his tasks when the humans wanted his attention was impossible, and thus put the current t-shirt on his lap and looked at them both evenly.

“I got it all right! See!” He practically thrust the monitor in Logan’s face, who had to pull it away to read the results. “I got the highest grade in class!”

“That is very good, Virgil,” Logan praised lightly, and Virgil bounced faster in response.

Patton had an odd expression when he looked at Logan, although he could not place the precise emotion the human was feeling. It looked to be in the realm of contentment.

“You do smile,” Patton said softly as Virgil grabbed his monitor and scurried off to play without another care. “It’s small, like the barest muscle lifting your lip up.”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Logan tilted his head, brushing his finger over his artificial lips. He didn’t feel whatever Patton saw on him.

Patton simply sighed and shook his head, but he had a smile upon his own face, although it looked almost sad.

* * *

As Virgil grew up, Logan needed only a couple updates, and every time, Patton would watch his actions for any emotions. It would have been annoying if Logan _could_ feel emotions.

By the time Virgil grew to be a new teenager, however, the discussion of android desires and emotions and feelings had faded away, more so because Logan eventually stopped entertaining the conversation. Patton, and his son for that matter, never stopped bringing it up when events occurred.

Virgil would always give him side-glances as he was tutored for harder homework he struggled with, or when he would ask questions simply to satisfy his curiosity, small smiles on his lips every moment that Logan gave him his answers or praises for when Virgil remembered facts that had been told to him or when he did well in his classes.

Patton, in his own way, would slip in ideas or desires or wants he believed Logan may enjoy. Logan went around with it for the most part but could not find himself to say anything other than he neither liked nor disliked whatever it may have been.

It went on like this for some time. The humans would try to goad Logan into saying or doing something that would ‘prove’ to them that he had emotions, while he remained neutral as he knew for a fact anything he did was because of his programming, not because of some nonsensical human ability known as feeling.

_I have no emotions. I have no need for emotions. I do not have emotions._

* * *

It occurred while Logan had been told he was to stay home while Patton and his now-older-teenaged son Virgil went shopping. He worked on his chores, allowing himself to listen to soft music for ambient noise. It wasn’t entirely that he cared for the noise or silence, he had simply found the other humans were in a constant state of activity at all hours that it now was odd for the building to be without sound.

He swept the kitchen when he received the call from an unknown number. He paused his work, as if it would help focus on who may be trying to contact him directly. The only people who had his contact information were Virgil and Patton in the case of emergencies, and Logan blinked once before answering.

“This is Logan, AX700, #314 159 265, may I inquire who is calling?”

“You are the emergency contact for the Moore family?” An equally as cool and even voice came through the line and Logan blinked again. Patton would have said he was confused, but that simply wasn’t possible for him.

“Affirmative. For Patton and Virgil Moore,” he answered.

“This is emergency services. Patton Moore has been taken to the hospital in critical condition, and his son is with him.”

Logan, in all his years of existing, could not find his words. He opened his mouth but not a sound came out. It took a second try to say something.

“What… What happened?”

“We are uncertain. Mr. Moore was unconscious when his son called us and he appeared to be in shock and could not inform us as to what happened. However, he made it clear to contact you and request your appearance to the hospital.”

“Ah, of course. Which hospital have they been taken to?” Logan mentally shook himself and stood up straighter. He placed the broom against the counter of the kitchen, ready to make his way to whichever hospital his owner had been taken to.

* * *

Virgil appeared to be non-verbal when Logan arrived at the waiting room, but the moment he locked eyes with the other, Virgil launched out of his chair and wrapped his arms around the android, holding him like a lifeline.

The action threw Logan off. The teen had never been very touchy-feely, unless it was with his father who was extremely physically affectionate.

Awkwardly, due to Logan’s arms being trapped to his sides by the human’s embrace, he returned the embrace, noting his heart rate had increased concerningly high, as was his breathing. Logan was accustomed to Virgil’s panic attacks, as he had been having them since he started elementary.

“Virgil, point to me five things you can see,” he said softly, leading the human to the chair he had leapt from previously. “You are hyperventilating, please point out five things you can see for me, Virgil.”

It took some coaxing to get Virgil to follow the grounding exercise, before they went through another, and finally a breathing exercise until his shoulders were less tense and his breathing calmed.

“Are you able to speak, Virgil?” Logan asked, sitting next to the teen, who shook his head, wrapping a hand loosely around his neck. “That is fine. Are you able to type? I’d like to know what happened, if it’s possible.”

Virgil frowned but took his hand away from his throat to grab his phone, his hands shaking as he slowly tapped on the keyboard. Logan waited patiently, casting a look around the waiting room. It was fairly quiet, a couple other small groups scattered around and other androids walking in and out of the room. Most of the androids appear to be modelled for hospital work as nurses or secretary.

He returned his attention to the human when Virgil finished typing, holding the phone out to him. It was full of spelling mistakes due to the shaking, but Logan slowly decoded the words to the following sentence:

_‘A creep was following us after we bought our groceries. I tried to tell him off but he pulled a gun. Dad tried to diffuse the situation and then he got shot and the creep ran.’_

Logan took his time to process the information, but before he could say anything, a young looking android walked their way.

“Mr. Moore?” She asked politely, and took note of Virgil snapping his head up. “I have some difficult news, unfortunately.”

Virgil froze, his breath coming in tiny puffs. Logan put a hand on his shoulder and looked to the nurse.

“Is his father okay?” He asked evenly, but there was an odd shake to his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m sorry,” she looked down, a sympathetic frown on her lips. “The doctors did their best but were not fast enough. It had been a direct hit on his heart.”

Virgil made a noise Logan had never heard come from the human and doubled over in his seat. Logan felt as if his processors weren’t working.

“I’m sorry for your loss. He passed away ten minutes ago,” the nurse said, causing Virgil to keen and curl up into himself, sobbing.

She left the two of them and Logan was certain she had said something, but he could not hear anything. It was as if his processors were down. Pressure built around his eyes and his throat but he could not figure out what was happening. Patton could not be… it was impossible, the man had been healthy and fit and well within the category to live a full ninety years. He was only in his forties.

His auditory processors focused on Virgil’s gasping breaths. He was curled up as much as was possible, shaking violently, and made sounds that should not have ever come out of the human. There was so much pain, and Logan had no idea how to fix this. He put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder lightly and the teen all but jumped into his lap, clutching his shirt and pressing his face into his chest.

* * *

Only a week passed before Logan was told he was to be put back up into the market, and Virgil would be taken in by some relatives that lived in the state, who had been the ones to say Logan was not needed.

Both heavily protested. Logan was still contracted by the Moores, which included Virgil who had been four when he had been bought. Now that Virgil was 17, he should be able to make his own decisions about Logan’s status in place of his father.

“You can’t just take him! He still belongs to me!” Virgil shouted, grabbing onto Logan’s arm and holding as tightly as he could.

“We already have enough androids at home, Virgil, we simply do not have the room to keep him,” his aunt Dot remarked calmly. “If we had room we could easily keep him.”

“Let him stay in my room!” Virgil’s volume refused to lower, and his voice cracked. “Please, don’t take him away too.”

“We can’t, sweetheart. We just don’t have the money for his upgrades. He’s a much older model,” Virgil’s uncle Larry shook his head, frowning in sympathy.

“Don’t do this, please,” Virgil pleaded, tears falling down his face. “I can’t lose him too. I can’t lose both of them, please.”

“My upgrades will not be needed for another decade, if that helps any,” Logan attempted. He understood how his software was now a bit outdated compared to the newer models, but the thought of leaving Virgil in distress over him made him wish to balk. “I had gotten my most recent update only three months ago. I also have been programmed with Virgil’s case. He is calmed by routine and familiarity and will only respond when distressed to specific grounding exercises. With… With Patton, it is essential to give him some continued familiarity.”

“We get that, Logan, but we simply do not have the room nor the money,” Dot said, shaking her head. Her expression was pinched. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if we had enough of either. I’m sorry.”

“We already filed for pickup for this afternoon,” Larry said, and the keening sound that foreshadowed the sob that ripped from Virgil’s being was all the warning the other three had before the teen collapsed, his hand still gripping Logan’s arm like a lifeline.

Logan knelt beside the human. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and held him. The relatives allowed them to stay there, leaving them some privacy with quiet apologies.

Virgil sobbed for several minutes, shaking his head and clutching whatever he could of Logan, and it took a bit for him to realize the teen was saying something, as shaky as his voice was and how garbled it was among the sobs and gasps of breath.

“I don’t want to lose you too,” he understood. “You’re, you’re practically my other dad, you, you _raised_ me with him and now… I don’t want you to go.”

Something within Logan snapped. Pressure built against his throat and he quietly tightened his embrace around the human.

“Apologies,” he whispered. He hadn’t meant to whisper, but something stopped him from speaking any louder. “I… Do not wish to lose you either.”

In normal conversation, over a week ago, Patton and Virgil would have lost their minds at his words. For so many years, Logan had refused to entertain the idea his model could be programmed to have emotions, or desires, or _wishes_ and yet, at the thought of Virgil and him being separated forever stung in the worst ways. Logan disliked this realization only came about because Patton… because he was gone, and damn if that didn’t hurt more. The man had always been the one to say he had the ability, always wished to hear him say if he liked something, or disliked another, and all that needed to happen for Logan to admit to anything was his death. It had to be a cruel irony.

Logan only felt something when Patton could not feel anything at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [ LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> Feedback
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